


god, it feels like forever

by SilverRollu



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 15:14:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverRollu/pseuds/SilverRollu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're just so tired. You're tired of the pain and the frustration and you're <i>tired</i> of being <i>tired.</i>"</p><p>Drabbles set in "Ultimate Enemy's" universe. But...what if Vlad hadn't separated Danny from his ghost half?</p>
            </blockquote>





	god, it feels like forever

**Author's Note:**

> It's just impossible for me to write a fanfic that isn't second person.
> 
> Pov goes back and forth, starting with Danny.

**i.**

There wasn’t anything for you after that day. Vlad had caught wind of the accident far too quickly (of course he did, he was always far too devoted to your family, much too invested in your lives for such a tragedy to go without notice) and immediately offered you a place to stay. There are many things you didn’t know, about your parents family, the relatives that barely managed to keep in touch over the years, the people that have never even appeared in your thoughts. Except in passing. At a funeral with no bodies.

“Where are you staying right now? You know, Daniel, I…  _am_  here for you.”

There wasn’t a lot for you to say that day.  _Yes, please. I can’t stand it here. I can’t_ take _it here._  You barely managed a “thank you” when you stepped out of the limo and into his waiting arms.

**ii.**

“I’m  _not_  doing it, Daniel.”

“But why  _not_?” Danny replies, and you can clearly see the tears picking at his eyes. He’s basically  _screaming_  at you by now. “You can do this! you can rip it out, you’re smart enough—”

“But apparently you’re not smart enough to understand why that is a bad idea! Daniel, experiments like  _this_  have…consequences! I don’t believe it would work, regardless of whether or not I’m willing to try. which i am  _not._ ” you’re looking at him directly, giving him a tense look that you just know he’s going to take the wrong way. you’re not trying to make him cry, you’re not trying to hurt him—you just want to stop him from hurting himself.

Though trying  _not_  to make him cry isn’t working out very well. he’s gathered a bit of space between where you’re sitting and where he’s standing, in the doorway of your lab, and shaking holding himself (like he’s trying to hold back his sadness, his anger, his fear). and you see them slide down Danny’s cheeks as he continues staring at you. Staring, because at one point he opens and closes his mouth and you realize that he doesn’t have anything to say, because he  _can’t_  say anything to you right now.

“Daniel,” you start, and he twitches at the sound of your voice. “I’m sorry but—”

“No,” Danny says when you stand, “no, don’t.” He backs away when you start to approach him. you never get a chance to, anyway, because he bolts out of the room before you have the time to call after him.

This time, you let him go.

**iii.**

You’re tired. You’re tired of failing your classes because you can’t focus, you’re tired of throwing books at the walls because you can’t study, you’re tired of losing weight because you can’t eat, you’re tired of staring at the ceiling at night

wide awake

because you can’t sleep. Because behind your eyelids is nothing but blood and fire, over and over and over. because your mind is constantly in a dull pain, because your eyes are constantly watering, because you’re always fucking  _shaking_  with anger and fear and self-loathing.

You stare up at the ceiling and you’re just so goddamn  _tired._ It’s been over four months and nothing has gotten easier and you’re just so fucking  _done being tired._

**iv.**

You hear Danny crying, sometimes. when the castle is quiet (and it’s always quiet) and Danny’s in his room (like he always is) you phase in to watch him, silently, invisible to his eyes. he never makes a sound; he’s gotten better at that in the time he’s spent living with you. he tries to hide his pain, and that almost never works.

but there are some days where things just aren’t working for you (or him) and you stumble into his room (his dark room) and perch yourself at the edge of his bed, burying your face in your hands. Danny crawls to where you are, leans his back against yours, and sits there in silence with you. there’s an unspoken agreement—you don’t comment when you feel his shoulders shaking against yours, and he doesn’t question your sudden presence. and you’re done wondering just when you started to miss the Fentons (oh Maddie, Maddie, _Maddie_ ) just as much as your young ward.

**v.**

For a while, nothing actually happens. Vlad puts you in some ritzy private school, hires you some tutors in an attempt to get your grades up. You don’t like it, but Vlad is your “father” now (though the thought still settles uneasily in your stomach) and there’s no other choice but to go along with it.

It’s been a year already.

“Daniel. Have you finished studying?”

“…maybe.”

“ _Daniel,_ ” you hear the man say as he pokes his head into your room, his eyes immediately drawn to where you sit perched at the window.

It’s the strange transitional period between fall and winter right now, so you watch the birds on the empty tree branches and the watch stray leaves being pulled along the ground. Vlad’s flower garden is still in good shape, you notice, but you figure that won’t be for long.

“Daniel,” Vlad says again, sternly from where he stands behind you now.

“I’m…almost done.”

“Almost done isn’t done, you know this.”

You don’t have the energy for the silly banter you two usually throw at times like these, instead you sigh and slowly drag yourself over to your desk. Vlad’s watching you, expectantly, though you can  _feel_  the confusion wafting off him.

“Are you actually  _listening_  when I tell you to do something?” He asks, and you shrug. “My, usually I’d be more than happy to leave it at that but I know  _you._  Something’s wrong.”

“‘m fine.”

You gather the papers in your hands and stare at them, squinting at the new material that you really,  _really_  aren’t interested in. You make a show of grabbing a pen and jotting some notes down, answering some questions that you actually know and bullshitting the ones that confuse you the most. All the while Vlad is watching you from where he’s still standing at the window. He doesn’t say anything else to you, and after a few minutes he leaves the room, most likely off to complete some business stuff or work on ghost stuff or whatever it is he likes to do when he’s not bothering you.

It’s been a year, and things have fallen into a normal routine. You go to school, Vlad works, you two argue (and these days it doesn’t really go past just arguing). It’s normal but it’s  _not_. It’s foreign and weird and it hurts to think about.

You eventually finish your work but by the time you get back to the window the sun is setting and the birds have flown away and you just feel empty.

**vi.**

Danny arrives home from school one day, drops all of his things in the foyer (and you’ve told him time and again  _not_  to do that) and calls for you. You hear him, of course, things echoed in this lonely castle of yours, but you don’t move from your spot. When you don’t show up he comes looking for you, of course, and calls your name again once he appears in the doorway.

“I’m busy, Daniel.”

“I don’t care.” He approaches your desk. “Let’s spar.”

Now that gets your attention. You place your pen back down and spin your chair to see him, looking him over. His arms are at his sides, his knuckles white from his tightly clenched fists.

“You want to spar? With  _me_?” You ask, just to make sure, and Danny nods an affirmative.

It’s been more than a year since you two have gone at it (it’s been a year since Danny has been willing to go ghost) so you say “sure”. You can handle him. And when you two start, it’s obvious that he’s out of practice. He’s sloppy, his movements are slower than you remember, his aim worse then before. And  _that’s_  saying something, as he wasn’t a good shot before.

But what he doesn’t have in skill he makes up in  _energy_. He’s angry and he’s focused, and no matter how many times you knock him down he gets right back up and charges at him again. It reminds you of when you were just his arch-nemesis (not his “father”) and you’d fight and taunt him and fight until you’re tired of fighting.

When it gets to that point, when you get him to turn back human and fall to his knees, worn out, he looks up to you and he’s  _smiling_  for the first time in what feels like forever. So you pick him up off the ground and tell him that you’re going at it again, and that you’re not going easy on him.


End file.
